


Where The Blood Runs Through My Soul

by seitentaisei



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Aerial silks, Canon Compliant, Dancing, Fluff, LGBTQ Themes, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-26
Updated: 2018-07-26
Packaged: 2019-06-16 09:11:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15433746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seitentaisei/pseuds/seitentaisei
Summary: The aerial silk dancer has one more trick up his sleeve though. He makes a loop out of his silks, twirling that loop in the air near his hip as he turns to look this way and that at the audience. He seems to be considering them, and then his eyes land on Viktor. With a smile, the dancer strides across the stage toward the edge.Toward Viktor, toward “the best seat in the house.”IN OTHER WORDS: Yuuri accidentally seduces Viktor Nikiforov with an aerial silk performance at a Pride after-party two months before the Sochi Grand Prix Final and its subsequent banquet.





	Where The Blood Runs Through My Soul

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by my own close encounters with an aerial silk dancer at an LGBT+ pride event. Also an excuse to write Katsuki Yuuri performing for and interacting with the Japanese LGBT+ community. I want more fic about Yuuri and Viktor with their LGBT fans!
> 
> Collaboration with [roserelease](https://archiveofourown.org/users/roserelease/pseuds/roserelease) and they have an [ art blog](http://rosereleasestheart.tumblr.com/) with more lovely things!! They did the art, and I provided the fic. Title of the fic is from the song [ "home" by Morgxn](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rpbbuI2jndE)\- a song about finding home and belonging with a community. 
> 
> _Let the comfort of your family_  
>  _Deliver all your fantasies_  
>  _And for all those, all those stars that shine_  
>  _It's a different, different kind of light_  
>  _I'm going back home to the place where I belong_  
>  _There's nothing like it_  
>  _No, nothing like it_
> 
> -"home," Morgxn

Yuuri has rarely seen a club or bar be so utterly still and quiet. The mood matches the music he’s moving too as well, [KOKIA’s delicate vocals](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=z_tClUSNLBg) providing him the perfect backdrop. Wistful, soft, almost religious, her words weave a scene of people searching for their own songs and resonances in the world. Yuuri brings this to life with his body as he shifts through his poses on the two silks hanging from the ceiling. Using his arms and legs, he moves gracefully into increasingly impressive feats in the air above the crowd.

The song is slow and lingering, and he takes the opportunity to exhibit his poise and strength. One moment he supports his weight on his arms as he executes and holds an upside down split. The next moment he moves, wrapping silk around himself to support his weight with his legs and hips so he can fold gracefully into a floating backbend in the air. His arms fall loose and hang down as the silks spin him slowly.

His eyes are closed in this pose, and it gives him a moment to center himself. He is secretly quite glad that he decided to forgo contacts or glasses. His audience is only a blur in the darkness of the club, Yuuri the single performer in the room and lit up accordingly. The club is also quiet and still, not cheering for him after his poses as they might to a more energetic song. They all seem to respect the reverent, dream-like mood of the routine. The combined atmosphere does wonders for his nerves, and he relaxes into it even more. The rest of the moves come to him easily, effortlessly, and he begins to truly enjoy himself. Usually he does enjoy his performances once he's made it through his anxieties, and now is no different. 

After he moves through his final poses, Yuuri slowly glides down the silks toward the floor again- as though he’s an angel lightly drifting back down to Earth. His feet touch the soft pads below him, and he opens his eyes just as the last few notes fade out.

The audience goes wild for him now, and he flushes uncertainly as he waves at the blur of people in front of him. The host for the evening comes over the speakers to spur on more cheers and remind them that this is Katsuki Yuuri, renowned figure skater and professionally trained dancer, showing off his skills with aerial silks. It makes Yuuri flush darker still to hear himself praised, because Minako-sensei had told him that as beautiful as this routine was... it wasn’t well suited for an after-party at a club. He feared a slower, more elegant performance might bore the crowd rather than wow them.

If the raucous approval he’s receiving is any indication, his worries were ill-founded. While the thought makes him happy, Yuuri has the clear impression that they would’ve loved anything he’d chosen to do for them.

He had no idea how many gay fans he had before tonight.

Even though participating at the Kansai Rainbow Parade After-Party as a ‘guest celebrity’ wasn’t really Yuuri’s idea, he has to admit he's had more fun at the event than he anticipated. Something about being among other LGBT people for the night feels like coming home and being folded up among old friends… a rare feeling for Yuuri and his social anxiety. Well, his whole life anxiety. Maybe that’s why Minako-sensei and Mari had been so insistent that he give this a chance. From the moment he'd arrived, he’d been swept up into the celebratory mood, and he found that much of the pre-performance nerves that he usually had were gone by the time he was standing under the spotlight.

The small size of the venue might also have helped alleviate some of his anxieties, but he’s sure it has more to do with the people gathered here together for this sense of community. After his routine, the other revelers unsurprisingly pull him back into their circles to ask about his dancing, his skating, his work-out routines. Some of them are trying to push drinks into his hands.

At first, Yuuri refuses. He has to perform again for one thing, but for another, he’s serving at this event in a semi-official capacity. It would be unprofessional to drink when he was here to dance for them. He wouldn’t want to be drunk when he’s spinning up there in the air either.

But the gifts are friendly, and he knows with his tolerance to alcohol at least one or two won’t hurt. Several of the other “out” celebrities called in for the event are letting the crowd buy them drinks, and Yuuri finds himself wanting to be included as well. Yeah, he could handle having a few drinks with some nice people. Yuri had a half hour before his final performance, and the influx of love from the party-goers was working wonders for his nerves.

Yeah, yeah, a few drinks were fine, and he could just relax and enjoy himself until they needed him to return to his silks. His willingness to accept this liquid courage absolutely had nothing to do with the more sensual nature of his encore performance _at all_. It was all just normal, fun social drinking.

    ____

Endless shutter clicks and flashes and babble in a language Viktor doesn’t understand- not an unusual or necessarily annoying situation to be in. He’d been in this position in dozens of different countries at this point, and back when he was younger, he truly did enjoy all of this. The attention, meeting new people, and being able to travel was thrilling, and every new location and event held its own charm. It wasn’t always easy, but it was interesting. Viktor has always been a curious person, so it suits him well enough as a side note to his time on the ice.

Or at least it did. He wonders when it started becoming a chore.

Today, Viktor just sighs and adjusts his pose before he flashes one of his patented smiles at the camera. After a few more shots, the photographer tells him to take a break. Viktor accepts a bottle of water from a stagehand who says something in Japanese, and he smiles despite not understanding him. For the sake of politeness, Viktor thanks him in Japanese- one of the only words he knows in this language.

Viktor leaves the crowded set to find a quiet place with a window seat. The view is nice enough- Osaka is a brightly colored city with lots of activity and vibrant fashion. He’s never spent enough time in the city to truly explore, because it was only ever a temporary stop while he was touring and training and doing the obligatory sponsor events. He liked what he saw before though, and the chance to watch the city move from one of the high windows was a pleasant alternative to the stuffy, busy set.

The rainbows catch his eyes immediately. Rainbows and flags and people marching together. The vibrancy of the flags and balloons make them impossible to miss, and even some of the people are wearing clothes bright enough that from a distance they appear to be vaguely human shaped swirls of color. His eyes go a bit wide at this, and he follows the line of the parade toward a park. He can’t make out the details of the park so well, but he can see splashes of color through the trees and the tops of pop-up event tents.

Viktor feels an almost nostalgic rush of curiosity- had it really been so long since he’d felt this way? He presses a hand to his chest and applies a bit of pressure, as if to dispel this quiet sense of discomfort, of emptiness, that has become all too familiar recently. Distracting himself quickly from that strange mood he hasn’t yet named, he pulls out his phone and in English types ‘Osaka rainbow parade’ into the search bar. He isn’t sure it’ll turn up anything, but the event seems big enough to have some kind of social media page…

Sure enough, the words “Kansai Rainbow Festa” pop up immediately. He scans through the information, but it’s mostly in Japanese. The letters LGBT pop out at him from the unfamiliar symbols, and that stirs his curiosity even further. He himself is a part of that community, and he has never really experienced an LGBT event in a foreign country. In fact, he has never really had time for that kind of thing period, but if it was taking place just down the street, maybe he could make an appearance. Knowing he would need help to decipher the information, he returns to the set. The man who had offered him water can’t speak English, but he waves over one of the assistants.

“Can I help you, Mr. Nikiforov?” she says with a smile, standing in a stiff posture that Viktor recognizes as polite in this country.

“Can you tell me about this?” he replies with a bright smile, and he turns his phone around to show her.

The woman bows once and pantomimes taking the phone, making an almost apologetic face. Viktor passes it to her easily enough, and he gives her a moment to study the page. “It’s an LGBT Pride event,” she says slowly as she scrolls down the website. “The parade is taking place now, and the booths will close at … Ah. The event will end before we finish here.”

Viktor visibly deflates as his heart plummets in disappointment, and he reaches to take back his phone.

“Ah! But there is an official after-party tonight in this area,” she says, brightening and looking up to meet his eyes again. She passes the phone back with a flyer loaded onto the screen. “Would you like me to make arrangements for you to attend?”

After-party… he honestly probably shouldn’t, because tomorrow would be another day packed to the brim with work before he got back to training and travel and the rink.

Despite those concerns, Viktor feels like he really must go since the event caught his eyes so completely. The rainbows are calling to him, and he hasn't felt that rush of curious excitement in far too long. He barely pauses to think before he replies, “Oh yes! Yes, please!” 

    ____

The club is busy when Viktor arrives, a jostle of people who are all trying to find positions near a set of aerial silks at one edge of the room. He stops at the bar to order himself a cocktail as he looks around. The lighting is a little lower, clearly setting the stage for a performance, and he makes his way toward the area to find himself a place to sit. For now, he’s content to observe and get a feel for the room. Though the assistant on set had helped him get here, she hadn’t really taken time to explain what to expect.

The flyer has pictures of people at the bottom, special guests by the looks of it, but Viktor can’t read the little blurbs under them. One face had given him pause, because the man looked somehow familiar in a way he can’t place. He’s looking down at his phone, scanning the flyer again, when a man politely taps his arm.

“Yes?” Viktor says, smile snapping into place reflexively. He follows the man’s gesture to see a performer at the edge of the stage area. The man is wearing skintight leggings and a vest that doesn’t leave all that much to the imagination. His dark hair is down but swept just slightly to one side as though he’s been brushing it from his face. “Can I help you?”

That vague sense that Viktor has seen this performer before is back, but he is too busy admiring him to figure out where he knows him from. The man is disarmingly attractive, and the twinkle in his dark eyes has certainly caught Viktor's attention.

“Come sit here, Ikemen-san!” the man by the stage says with an almost conspiratory smile. “It’s the best seat in the house!”

Some of the people around him laugh or make sounds of approval at the word in Japanese, but its meaning is lost on Viktor himself. He simply laughs along with the others, and he makes his way to the edge of the stage area to sit in the ‘best seat in the house.’ He starts to speak again to the man, but he’s already moved away from him to say a few words to someone at the side of the stage. Prep work presumably. Viktor watches all the final adjustments be made as he sips his cocktail. Finally, the performer gives a deep bow to the audience, addressing them in Japanese and giving some sort of introduction.

Then, the performer looks back at Viktor to wink at him and says in English, “Enjoy the show!”

Viktor is struck by how the man glows in the lights, and he settles in to watch the performance. [Music starts](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iWUDiF_5qPI), a low sound of wind chimes and something almost fairy-tale like. The dancer rocks his hips in slow motion before the voice from the speakers counts in French as the beat kicks in. The man’s hips move faster, rocking sensuously to the almost eerie music, and finally he takes hold of the two silks attached to a ring in the ceiling of the club.

‘Eerie isn’t quite right,’ Viktor amends in his head, watching with rapt attention as the dancer climbs the silks. Otherworldly was a more accurate description of the music, like meeting a mermaid on a beach and being unsure if the creature’s song is one of seduction or death. Strong hands grip the silks before the dancer swings his legs up and stays perfectly upside down for just a moment. Then he curls his knees around one trailing silk and he’s pulling himself upwards hand over hand. As a fellow athlete, Viktor is impressed not only the strength it takes but also the precision and the balance necessary to keep from tumbling down.

The man has excellent awareness of his body, and in a few fluid motions with hips swaying to the music all the while, the silks are wrapped tight around his feet. He is ‘standing’ on the silk now, and he turns his body just enough so that the audience has an excellent view as he playfully wiggles his hips.

‘Seduction then,’ Viktor thinks to himself. Or so he hopes at least. He remembers to breathe only once the dancer has moved again, folding briefly down. Viktor gasps along with the rest of the crowd when the dancer pulls himself up into a perfect aerial split, and eager clapping follows after when the man spreads his arms wide for just a moment, supported only by the silk wrapped around his feet and ankles.

Stunningly attractive and powerful, the dancer continues- standing again to pose and dance while the sultry voice practically purrs from the speakers. The performer’s hands slide back as he bends forward, trailing teasing fingers over the swell of his ass before sliding down his thighs and calves until he’s folded in half. Viktor can tell the movement of the hands helps the dancer keep his balance, but that doesn’t take away from the eroticism of the move either.

Unable to look away, Viktor’s eyes follow the dancer’s fingers along the curves of his body.

Viktor finds himself wishing he could understand the words of the song, because he wonders just how much more seductive this show would be with the full impact of the lyrics in his ears. The man on the silks oozes sensuality as he dances in the air above them. One moment he’s upside down in a perfect split, and then he’s curling backwards until his feet nearly touch his head. Every move is accented by the silks that the man curls around himself, making even the process of wrapping the silk around his body seem effortless and sexy as he twirls in the air.

                                                     

                                                     

Viktor almost has a heart attack when the singer is suddenly crooning in English- “ _You wanna give me more, more, more. Do me more. It's deeper, sweeter, do me more._ ” He wonders, unable to push the thought down, what the dancer’s voice would sound like if he were saying those soft, sweet words. The impact of the lyrics on Viktor is heightened as the dancer climbs up the silks, rolling his hips forward first and letting the wave of the movement travel up along his back. Higher and higher up the silks, letting his hips do the leading, the dancer suddenly begins to spin and curl. The silks wrap around and around the man until he’s quite well cinched in at the waist. Viktor feels heat rise in his cheeks, and he knows that he is hopelessly caught up in the story the dancer is telling with his song choice and his body.

High above the club now, the man is supported by his waist and thighs, almost completely vertical for a moment, then he arches backwards, legs coming up high into an elegant dancer’s pose. He stretches his arms down toward the audience, expression imploring even upside down. His outstretched hands are a temptation and an invitation at once, and Viktor is almost out of his seat with how earnestly he wants to respond to that call. Then the man curls into himself, almost as though disappointed, but fluid as the water, he catches the end of the silks in both hands. Suddenly he snaps straight, and the silk is unraveling as the man plunges downwards.

The audience makes a general sound of surprise together that morphs into delight as the dancer comes to a stop feet above the floor. The expression on the dancer’s face is almost cheeky from the reaction of the crowd. Then he’s climbing up, spinning and posing, and Viktor is utterly captivated. Lingering and playful, the routine stirs something in Viktor that he hasn’t felt in a long time. Unable to tear his eyes away, he simply admires how the different poses and the wrap of silks emphasize the dancer’s strong body- especially his thighs. Sometimes the dancer twists the silks so that as he poses, he slowly turns in place so the crowd can see him from every angle.

Viktor finds himself thinking wildly that this man doesn’t have a single bad angle at all.

Finally the man flows down into a final pose, and supported by the curl of silk around his thighs, he holds on to the fabric with one hand between his legs as he spins. The other arm falls down, and he looks like an upside down ballerina turning on a ribbon. Then the dancer has both feet on the floor again, and Viktor is almost disappointed that the show is over.

The dancer has one more trick up his sleeve though. He makes a loop out of his silks, twirling that loop in the air near his hip as he turns to look this way and that at the audience. He seems to be considering them, and then his eyes land on Viktor. With a smile, the dancer strides across the stage toward the edge.

Toward Viktor, toward “the best seat in the house.”

‘He picked me for his audience plant,’ Viktor realizes a moment before the silk loop is tossed over his shoulders. He’s caught by the dancer literally and metaphorically now. The music keeps weaving its seductive magic, and the dancer is smiling in a way that Viktor can only describe as _indulgent_. Then the dancer starts to ‘reel’ in his catch, hand over hand, pulling Viktor out of his seat to stumble forward a few steps. Distantly he’s aware that the crowd is going wild for this display, but Viktor’s whole attention is solely on the dancer drawing him forward and the feel of silk tightening around his shoulders.

Just when he’s close enough that Viktor thinks- maybe even hopes- the man might jerk him forward to steal a cheeky kiss, the dancer stiffens. His eyes go wide, and his cheeks turn scarlet. For a few beats of the song they’re frozen like that-- Viktor knowing he looks gobsmacked and enraptured, and the dancer looking impossibly, gorgeously, startled. Then a cue in the song that only the dancer recognizes breaks the moment, and Viktor is released. The man is turning, almost running, out through the back area of the stage as more dancers come forward.

Viktor falls back a few steps and collapses into his chair, and he’s not sure he’s even breathing. The new performers are go-go dancers, and they’re dressed in outfits clearly meant to be Alice in Wonderland inspired. So the aerial silk dancer wasn’t a mermaid after all but a white rabbit, sent to tempt him off into Wonderland. Suddenly aware of how fast his heart is beating, Viktor puts a hand over his chest as though that will somehow steady him. Other party goers are slapping him on the back now and laughing at his awestruck expression.

“Who was that?” Viktor asks the man currently speaking to him happily in Japanese, because he knows nothing about the dancer. He hadn’t understood the introduction or the flyer, and he’d been too engrossed in the routine to even think about pulling out his phone to take pictures or videos. But Viktor needs to know more. He can’t stand not knowing more about the gorgeous man who danced above his head so wonderfully.

The other patron grins at him, and he says in slow measured English, “He is very famous in Japan. His name is --”

But the unfamiliar sounds tumble out much faster than the English, too fast for Viktor to understand them in the noise of the club. The show is continuing on stage, go-go dancers wowing the crowd just as much as the aerial dancer had.

“Will he dance again?” Viktor asks then. “That was amazing!!”

Unfortunately, the man shakes his head. “That was his last one. His encore!”

The thought that Viktor has missed other opportunities to watch this man work is incredibly disappointing. He needs proof of his experience-- or at least some information about this man’s identity. So he goes to his next best option to find answers- social media. He pulls up instagram first to see if anyone had captured any pictures of this lovely man’s acts. Fingers crossed, he searches “Rainbow FESTA” in English. Those had been the only words in English on the flyer and on the website so just maybe…

And there it is, pictures of the day’s festivities. Viktor thanks the man and waves before he’s heading back through the club. He needs to get out of the noisy room. He had to find out more about this man who is “very famous in Japan.”

    ____

‘Shit,’ Yuuri thinks. ‘Fuck!’

Fuck fuck fuck!

Yuuri’s face is on fire as he flees backwards through to the backstage area. Honestly, everything had been going so well until that very moment, when he’d tugged his unsuspecting audience member out of the crowd to come nose to nose with Viktor Nikiforov. Of course, when the stagehand pointed out an ‘attractive foreigner’ as a possible audience plant, Yuuri had thought, ‘sure, with silver hair just like Viktor’s…!’

He never thought it could _really_ be Viktor though. The man’s face was just a blur with silver hair from that distance, and why in the world would Viktor be there anyways?! This is just further proof that he should’ve worn his damn contact lenses for the performances… but he didn’t need them for the dance routine. The crowd becoming a blur of color and sound made performing actually that much easier for his anxiety, and so he chose to perform without them.

‘Oh god, I called him Ikemen-san,’ Yuuri remembers, fresh waves of shame rolling through him. 'Mr. Hot Guy' isn't inaccurate for Viktor, but it was _rude_ to be so openly teasing to a perfect stranger in a club. What had he been thinking? It was meant to be teasing and fun and the crowd had laughed. Yuuri had introduced himself, introduced the team of go-go dancers that would help him complete the show. He’d been in contact with them beforehand about it, and with Amuro Namie’s song being so popular, they had readily agreed to play into the theme with him. Straight forward and fun and--

“Enjoy the show!” he had teased in English. He groans into his hands, pressing his fingers tighter against his cheeks.

He shouldn’t have had the alcohol, that was it! He should’ve said no to every drop of it. It hadn’t been that much- just enough to loosen the tension in his shoulders and the anxiety from his brow. The routine required a subtle eroticism that he only achieved with at least a little alcohol in him, and in that regard, things had went wonderfully. Or at least, he thought they had. It had pleased the audience at least, and Yuuri himself had enjoyed the performance immensely too.

Up in the air with nothing but the music and his body and the gratifying reaction of the crowd. He had been swept up into it wholeheartedly, and he was reacting to all the positive feedback from the audience- the gasps and sounds of delight spurring him on. Riding that adrenaline high, he’d even managed to follow through on his plan to capture an unsuspecting audience member for the finale of his act. He hadn’t been sure beforehand that he’d be bold enough, but as he reeled in his catch, Yuuri was happy, energized, excited about his successful time in the air.

Then Viktor’s face finally came into focus when he was close enough, and it was like ice water had been dumped down his back. Not just a Viktor-esque blur anymore, but actually Viktor with his starlight hair and his big blue eyes and his perfect mouth. The man had looked stunned, and Yuuri can only imagine it was for the very worst of reasons.

Of course no one would want to be harassed in front of a crowd of strangers. He should’ve asked someone directly for permission, he should’ve… he should’ve…!!!

Then Mari’s hands are on his shoulders, drawing him out of his head.

“Hey, hey,” she says, concern in her voice. She and Minako-sensei both had come with him for the weekend, participating in the various events alongside him. He appreciates their help and their support, especially in moments like these. “What’s going on, Yuuri?”

Mari’s fingers on his shoulders ground him, and he realizes how fast his breaths had been coming only as they start to slow to match his sister’s even breathing.

“I just, it’s just, I…” Yuuri closes his eyes for a moment and takes a steadying breath. “I, uhm, I picked my audience plant…” He squirms and has to look away from Mari’s concerned but piercing expression.

“Yeah, the one you pull in with your silks?” Mari is always patient with him when she finds him panicking about things, and Yuuri feels a bit of the tension in his chest uncoil. Mari could be aloof and disinterested sometimes, but she was the best kind of big sister to have.

“He was… Well, I picked him because he had silver hair, like Viktor Nikiforov’s, but when I pulled him in closer… He was Viktor. And I uhm--”

“He what?!” Mari cuts in suddenly. “Viktor Nikoforov was here? Watching you?” She looks almost disbelieving, and she glances back toward the main club, the low pulse of the beat the only hint at the noise going on in there.

He nods, and he shifts his weight, fidgeting and shame-faced. “And I, yeah, it was… Can we leave now?”

Mari considers him and asks, “Did you have fun?”

Yuuri’s cheeks burn, and he can’t meet his sister’s eyes. “I mean, I ended it by humiliating--”

“Did you have fun? Most of the night?” Mari’s voice isn’t angry, just an even steady calm that she’s so good at maintaining.

“I…” But he does manage a smile this time. “Well, yeah, I did, except that last part.”

“Stop worrying about the last part,” she says back. “You came and had fun and relaxed for a while.” There are firm hands on his cheeks now, squishing his face. “That’s worth a little embarrassment. We can go now though, if you’re finished with the party.”

“Easy for you to say- you weren’t the one embarrassing yourself in front of Viktor Nikiforov,” Yuuri grumbles as he pushes her fingers away. “I will definitely be heading out, but if you wanna stay, I’ll be okay on my own.”

Mari shrugs and says, “I’ll go ask Minako-sensei what she wants to do. Give me a minute.”

Even though he’s still not completely calm, Mari has settled him down a lot, and her words make him feel a little better. He shouldn’t worry so much about the last part- Viktor wouldn’t recognize him later anyways. After all, Yuuri isn’t really very memorable, and he’d thankfully seen no flash of recognition in Viktor’s eyes. Yeah, he should focus on the fun memories of the night… This whole ‘accidentally harassing Viktor in a club’ thing would be absolutely forgotten.

    ____

[[ Chris I swear, he was an utter angel AN UTTER ANGEL ]]

Viktor had immediately started texting Chris after he found a spot to sit outside the noisy club. He’d been making unsuccessful attempts to convince Chris of the very real magnitude of the encounter with this mystery dancer.

The reply he gets is annoying. [[ you said as much already but i still haven’t gotten any pictures or video evidence. are you sure you aren’t just having a nice dream?? ;) ]]

[[ you’re gross and mean ]] Viktor texts back, sending a team of red faced angry emojis following soon after this message.

Chris doesn’t respond to this, but Viktor is knee-deep in instagram posts again. Finally, blessedly, he finds a picture that the dancer must have posed for earlier in the night with other partiers. The man is in his costume for the routine Viktor had seen, and he smiles shyly at the camera with his fingers held up in a V as he leans toward his fans.

Viktor clicks through to the random fan’s instagram account, finding that he had posted several pictures of the day’s events. One single glorious picture of the aerial dance is there, and Viktor can hardly contain his smile. At least one of the tags on this post has to be the man’s name, and Viktor could google it to find out more once he figured out which group of symbols it was. Viktor saves both pictures to his phone regardless, and then he sends the picture of the dance to Chris. For good measure, he follows this picture with the first one he’d found- the performer smiling uncertainly at the camera.

The response from Chris is immediate this time.

[[ I didn’t know Yuuri did aerial silks!!!! he’s been holding out on me!! ]] Another text rapidly follows the first. [[why didn’t he invite me to his show!! i’ll scold him for this ]]

Viktor stares, dumbfounded, down at the messages, and his heart rate kicks into overdrive. _Yuuri_. What a lovely name! He’d spend more time on that thought later though. Right now he really must ask--

[[ you KNOW him??!!! ]]

Chris’s reply is simple.

[[ ?????? ]]

Viktor’s screen is taken up by a video chat request from Chris, and he answers it with no hesitation. He supposes he should’ve wondered what time it was… wherever in the world Chris’s own training and work schedule had taken him, but Viktor hadn’t thought of it at all. The image of his friend on the screen doesn’t really help him much as the background is a nondescript hotel room, curtains drawn and no natural light to judge by. Chris is thankfully dressed- although Viktor wouldn’t necessarily mind a shirtless video session, he is still in public.

“I thought you were being coy after you sent the pictures,” Chris says, eyebrow raised. “That’s Katsuki Yuuri.”

“Katsuki Yuuri?” Viktor echoes, smiling to himself. “That’s his name?” It sounds familiar too, and Viktor might have put two and two together if he hadn’t been eager to hear what Chris knows.

“Yeah?” Chris laughs, looking more incredulous than ever. “You’re telling me that you honestly haven’t noticed my favorite cute little Japanese figure skater before? For shame Viktor!”

Viktor knows his eyes are wide as he takes in this news. “A figure skater…?” A bit of rummaging in his brain and then -- “Oh! Oh! I think I have seen some of his programs. I was wondering why he looked so familiar.”

Chris rolls his eyes and shakes his head. “Of course you’d be too caught up in your own world to notice a shy, quiet man no matter how attractive he is. I always notice attractive men. Even the shy ones.” Chris grins now, eyes twinkling with mischief. “Especially the shy ones.”

Viktor laughs at him before putting on a faux pout. “I can’t believe you never pointed him out to me.” Although he’s rising to Chris’s playful teasing, Viktor is currently wracking his brain in an attempt to remember the programs he had seen Yuuri do before. Viktor wonders if his difficulty remembering is more about him or Yuuri.

Was it a lack on Yuuri’s part that led to Viktor skimming over the man without paying him much mind? Or was it the strange empty feeling that Viktor has been combating for so long now? Skating, and by extension the skating world with its competitions and dramas, had become stale somehow.

‘Or perhaps,’ Viktor muses to himself darkly. ‘I am becoming stale.”

“Do I have to drag your head out of your ass every time a cute man walks by?” Chris asks, heaving a dramatic sigh. Viktor startles from his thoughts at Chris’s words, and he hopes the other man hadn’t noticed his momentary abstraction.

Chris continues after a moment, expression affectionate, “I think he’s a fan of yours, though. Judging by some of his stylistic elements.”

“Gasp!” Viktor says. “I have to watch his programs now. But first! Chris, you have to tell me what you know about him!”

“It’s less than you’ll want to know,” Chris admits. “He is a reserved man, Viktor. Even with all my charms, Yuuri has trouble relaxing and opening up.”

Viktor tries to reconcile this with the man he’d seen curled up in the silks and tugging him out of the crowd to tease him. “Hmmm, well, tell me what you do know, at least.”

Chris finally shrugs and says, “Alright, but you’ll owe me a glass of wine next time we meet.”

“But of course!” Viktor replies. It was information well deserving of a whole bottle of wine as far as he's concerned, and he gets comfortable on the bench out in the chill October night air as Chris shares all he knows about Katsuki Yuuri.

    ____

The Grand Prix Final…

Yuuri is a mix of emotions as he tries to survive one of the most anxiety inducing events that he’s skated in so far. It would be easier if he wasn’t a ball of worry that Viktor might see him and recognize him for what he did those short months ago. He cringes every time he thinks Viktor glances in his direction, heart stopping as he tries to tilt his whole face and body away from his idol.

Beyond the embarrassing fear of being recognized, Yuuri wants to meet Viktor only when he’s able to compete at the same level. Which honestly…?

Yuuri isn’t doing that at this competition. With the loss of his dog, his binge-eating, his anxiety weighing on him, Yuuri feels heavy on the ice, and his performances lose… something. That light musicality that he brings to the ice most of the time is gone, and he is in tears after his performances. Guilt and self-loathing tug his mood further and further down, and by the end of the competition, Yuuri is inconsolable no matter how much the people around him attempt to encourage him. 

Although he’s aware of his own skills on the ice, Yuuri has disappointed himself, his family, his coach, and all the people cheering for him. He wants nothing more to go home and bury his face in Vicchan’s fur, but even that small comfort isn’t available anymore. Hell, he isn’t sure he has the gumption to go home and face his family and friends after his pitiful showing on the ice.

By the end of the Grand Prix Final, Yuuri isn’t worried about Viktor recognizing him from the club. He’s worried about Viktor recognizing him from the ice- in fact, he’s humiliated by the idea that any of his fellow skaters would remember his pathetic performance.

Although he manages to avoid Viktor for the whole of the competition, the sound of his own name finally leads to Yuuri meeting the other man's eyes. When Viktor acknowledges him and breezily suggests a photo, Yuuri tastes bile in the back of his throat. Unable to even respond for the shame roiling in his chest, Yuuri can only turn and trudge away. He always imagined what it would be like to finally make it to the Grand Prix Final and to show off his skills on the ice. He would be able to look Viktor in the eye, proud of his own hard work, and introduce himself as ... not an equals perhaps but as a competitor at least.

Now, he might never get that chance. Maybe he really should give it up now and retire.

    ____

Viktor is beyond excited by the idea that he will finally meet Katsuki Yuuri when he arrives for the Grand Prix Final. The excitement takes a turn though- he never can seem to run into the man. He’s always just missed him leaving the locker room or he's already went to lunch or the elevator door closes a few moments too soon. Viktor almost makes it to his side once before a member of the press catches him, and when he looks up again, Yuuri is nowhere in sight.

Frustrating… but not so frustrating as watching Yuuri bomb on the ice.

Since the fateful dance, Viktor has watched dozens of Yuuri’s performances. Most of the time, Yuuri has excellent step sequences, amazing stamina, and an uncanny ability to bring music to life on the ice. He lacks certain technical skills, sure, and he could _definitely_ improve on his overall consistency. Consistency may honestly be his biggest problem- in Viktor’s opinion at least. Despite all his skills and hard work, Yuuri chokes on the ice sometimes for no reason obvious to the viewer, and Viktor hates to see it happen at the Grand Prix Final.

Such promise lost to nerves and whatever distractions are preventing Yuuri from performing at his best.

All of the other athletes can see it as well, but no one seems able to approach Yuuri directly. The man is too private, and they are competitors. Concern might come off as rude when they are performing better in the competition than he is. By the end of the Final, Viktor knows he can’t approach the man despite how much he wants to. Yuuri is hurting and in great need of comfort-- from a friend! Not from a man who’s seen him dance on silks months ago and who desperately wants to flirt with him. Viktor has never been good at comforting people either, another fact that has him watching and wondering but keeping his distance.

Viktor thinks he’s gotten an unexpected chance when he catches Yuuri staring at him. He turns eagerly, flashing one of his brilliant smiles.

“A commemorative photo?” He's adopting what he knows is a handsome pose, oozing all the confidence and friendliness that he uses to charm so many fans and sponsors. “Sure!”

Viktor isn’t sure how he thought Yuuri might respond, but he doesn’t expect _that_ expression. Yuuri looks stung and ashamed-- as if Viktor struck him across the cheek. Then the man turns and leaves without a single word or glance behind him.

With a slow exhale, Viktor deflates, and he’s disappointed that he ruined the chance to connect so thoroughly. That wasn’t what he intended, and he has no idea what he said wrong. Maybe he hadn’t done anything wrong; maybe whatever was bothering Yuuri required a more gentle touch than Viktor’s press-ready friendliness. Yuuri needs someone who understands how to help him, and Viktor simply doesn’t. He frowns and lets his hand drop to his side.

Whatever feelings Yuuri’s performances had stirred in him were just that- his own feelings. He would respect Yuuri’s space even if he wanted to chase the man down and ask him what was wrong. Perhaps one magical moment in a crowded club was all that was meant for them, and Viktor would need to accept that reality.

...or so he thinks until Yuuri has a few too many flutes of champagne at the banquet.

  **____**

**Epilogue** : _One year later, Barcelona, the night before the Grand Prix Final_

Viktor slows as they walk with the others back toward the hotel. After Yuuri’s startling revelations at dinner, Viktor wants his little competitor all to himself again. He’s replaying months of memories in his head, and so much of it makes sense now. When he’d shown up in Hasetsu, utterly enamored and ready to explore the magnetism between them, Yuuri had balked at his attempts to connect with him. Viktor was constantly reaching for him, trying to get closer to him and understand him.

At the time, the repeated rebuffings had been achingly painful. Viktor had thought they had both had an amazing time at the banquet, and yet Yuuri never tried to contact him again. Then Yuuri had sent him the most gorgeous love letter- doing Viktor’s own program with such skill and yearning. Viktor had dropped everything and made arrangements to move to Japan for however long it would take him to respond to that love letter in kind. He was taking the chance that they could create something fresher, more exciting, more interesting together than anything they could make apart. 

To then find Yuuri aloof and so cold, apparently, had been quite a blow.

Although Viktor doesn’t say anything, Yuuri must sense his mood, and he pauses outside the window of a shop. He lingers there, seemingly admiring the display, and Viktor is thankful that they’ve come far enough that they can read each other so well.

“Y-you were staring,” Yuuri finally murmurs as the rest of the group moves on ahead of them. He glances up at Viktor then back at the clothing display. “I mean, do you have, uhm, something to say?”

Viktor steels himself, and he moves to stand at his side. As foolish as it is, Viktor's feelings are raw from the recent revelations, and he is unable to meet Yuuri's eyes as he tries to broach the subject. Instead, he turns his body toward the glass as well, feigning interest in the display. “You honestly don’t remember the banquet?” His mouth feels ridiculously dry, and he wets his lips. His thumb slides against the outline of the gold band on his finger, a solid reassuring weight beneath his glove.

“OH! That, uh, well, I don’t. I’m sorry,” Yuuri says, bringing a hand up to skim his fingers through his hair. It’s a nervous habit for him, and Viktor watches the way his cheeks turn pink in the reflection on the glass.

Viktor sighs heavily, and he tries to push down the regret in his chest. Not regret for that night but for how he’d acted after- turning up at Yuuri’s hot spring and greeting him naked. Trying repeatedly to get Yuuri to confide him in, to touch him, to sleep next to him… Viktor had been so forward with him back then, because after seeing him on the silks and the pole, after dancing with him, he simply thought Yuuri was too shy to make the moves himself. Viktor was trying to meet him halfway. He could make the moves, and Yuuri could respond to them in kind.

And Yuuri hadn’t because they had totally different understandings of where their relationship had started. 

A tug at the sleeve of his coat, gentle but insistent, has Viktor turning to face Yuuri more fully. Viktor can feel heat burning through his cheeks and neck, and he wonders what his expression must look like from Yuuri’s position.

“You’re disappointed,” Yuuri says, tone thoughtful and a bit on the melancholic side. “You had so much fun, and I forgot all about it. I… I can tell how happy you are from those pictures. I’m sorry. I just-- I didn’t know.”

“It’s not that,” Viktor says, bringing a hand up to cover his mouth for a second. Well, perhaps it's partially that. Such a magical night for him had been lost in Yuuri's alcohol haze, leaving Viktor alone in his fond warm remembrances of their meeting. It wasn't the main issue that Viktor was wrestling with though- he was much more concerned about how he had made Yuuri feel during those early months of their new partnership. Realizing the conversation requires delicacy, he takes a moment to consider how to say this properly.

Hesitantly, Viktor says, “I came on so strong when I first got to Hasetsu. Constantly touching you and asking awkward questions and I always did that thing…” He gestures to where the fold of his inn robes would’ve fallen. “You know, letting my clothes practically fall off. God, you must’ve thought I was a pervert or a playboy. An arrogant playboy who thought I could waltz in and seduce you.”

Instead of being upset, Yuuri looks vaguely startled before he actually smiles. “That’s what you’re worried about. You’re embarrassed!” His expression becomes even brighter, and he reaches up to poke his cheek. “Viktor Nikiforov! You look...shy! Bashful even!”

The wonder in Yuuri’s eyes makes Viktor smile just a little. He pushes on despite the burn in his cheeks and the uncomfortable press of embarrassment on his lungs. “You did though, right? Think I was trying to seduce you?”

Yuuri hesitates a brief moment and then shrugs, dropping his hand now to find Viktor’s. “I… I thought maybe you were just naturally seductive. I never dreamed you would ever actually be interested in seducing me…” But then Yuuri’s expression changes a little, becoming sharper and more like the expression he wore on the silks or when he was skating to _Eros_. “But it was me, wasn’t it? I seduced you, back at the banquet. It’s why you knew I could skate _Eros_ , why you wanted to see me be, y’know, like _that_ again.”

Viktor laughs incredulously. Naturally seductive? How was it fair that Yuuri had thought that of him? Viktor's charms are all carefully cultivated through years of practice, but Yuuri is practically a natural at it -- unwittingly seducing people with no understanding of how alluring he is. “You seduced me back when you did your aerial silk routine, Yuuri,” Viktor says as he steps closer. “I’ve had dreams about you up in the spotlights of the club, of you on the ice, of you dancing with me at the banquet. You really do underestimate yourself.”

Yuuri’s eyes go wide, and he startles again. Focusing on maybe the least important part of Viktor’s words, Yuuri says, “You… you knew it was me?? On the silks? I thought, I mean you never said, god I’m sorry I--”

But it's Viktor's turn to smile now. He cuts him off with a shake of his head and the touch of gentle gloved fingers to his lips. “No, no apologies. I enjoyed it. To be singled out by such an amazing performer and then to learn how much we had in common. No, don’t apologize, Yuuri. Let me apologize instead. If I made you uncomfortable during my first few weeks at Hasetsu when I was still… hmm, _excited_ , I’m sorry for it. I’m glad you didn’t outright dismiss me.”

Yuuri, cheeks dark red, reaches up to take hold of his hand. Eyes never leaving Viktor’s, he pulls the glove off, and then he slides their fingers together. Yuuri’s hand is cold from the night air, but Viktor craves the feel of Yuuri's skin against his own.

“Don’t apologize. I was confused and overwhelmed but… But I enjoyed your attention.” Then he grins in that cheeky way that Viktor appreciates as special, only coming out in moments when Yuuri is most confident. “To be singled out by such an amazing performer and--”

“Hey!” Viktor says with a pout, dragging Yuuri close enough that their chests are almost touching. “Don’t mock me! I was being honest! I felt a lot, watching you dance.”

Yuuri’s expression softens, and for a moment, that unsure nervous Yuuri is back. “Well. Then I’m glad. I’m glad I could inspire you the way... the way you always inspired me.”

Still flushed and shy, Yuuri moves in, closing the distance with a gentle peck to his lips.

Viktor basks in the sweetness before he reaches up to cup Yuuri’s cheek and deepen the kiss. It’s too cold to stay out for much longer, but for now, with no misunderstandings between them, Viktor ignores the cold in favor of kissing the man who's changed his life. They are on the cusp of something that neither Viktor nor Yuuri has named and they would need to talk about it eventually. Feelings they haven’t yet given breath to voice hang heavy between them. When Yuuri breaks from his mouth, his lips are red and wet, and Viktor wants nothing more than to kiss him again.

But they are still standing in the street, and they both need to get up in the morning.

Breathless, Viktor says, “I’m glad we’re on the same page now at least.”

Smiling shyly and gently touching his own lips, Yuuri replies, “I am too. Let’s go back for the night.”

Normal as anything, Yuuri catches Viktor’s hand before he can put his glove back on and slides their fingers together. As they start back toward the hotel, Viktor’s heart soars as Yuuri tucks their joined hands into his coat pocket. Sentimental as always, Viktor can’t help but wonder if this is what love is-- a thousand little moments like this that build up into something too large to understand at once. He wonders if Yuuri would agree with him if he said as much.

That conversation was for another day though. Tonight, Viktor simply enjoys Yuuri’s hand in his, and he sneaks glances down at the glint of gold around Yuuri's finger. 

**Author's Note:**

> Ikemen-san means something like "Mr. Hot Guy." Ikemen denotes someone not just attractive/handsome but also cool. 
> 
> SONGS  
> [KOKIA - Oto no tabibito ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=z_tClUSNLBg)  
> [Amuro Namie - Do Me More ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iWUDiF_5qPI)
> 
> Aerial Silk dance for 'Do Me More' based on this performance by [Cristina Balcerek](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XR3CMNucqh8)
> 
> Also you can reblog and look at the full art [here! ](http://rosereleasestheart.tumblr.com/post/176315797825/where-the-blood-runs-through-my)  
> Constructive crit and comments always appreciated!


End file.
